


Allusions Illusion In a Lovesong

by Annick_La



Series: Allusions [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Psychological Trauma, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-07-30 13:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20098180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annick_La/pseuds/Annick_La
Summary: He needs her. She needs him and they lean on each other, sucking the life from each other. It's not always her at fault. Some days he is provoking, other days they both do it to each other. Sakura's mind is as changing as her emotions but just like him, she's perceptive. She knows him. She knows how to kiss him with expert knowledge of his neediness.





	1. Allusions Illusion In a Lovesong

"_Would it have been worthwhile, _ _   
_ _ To have bitten off the matter with a smile, _ _   
_ _ To have squeezed the universe into a ball _ _   
_ _ To roll it towards some overwhelming question, _ _   
_ _ To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead, _ _   
_ _ Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”— _ _   
_ _ If one, settling a pillow by her head _ _   
_ _ Should say: “That is not what I meant at all; _   
That is not it, at all.”’

#####  _The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock_, T.S Eliot

* * *

Itachi's day starts at 3 AM every morning._  
_

Just before dawn, before daylight stretches across the sky; before birds sing their morning song; before sellers and vendors greet the morning crowd, before school children raise and mothers make breakfast. He opens his eyes in the dark stillness of nautical twilight, and stares at the ceiling of his bedroom. Itachi rolls off his back from an old squeaky bed that dips in odd places. He adjusts to sit at its edge and looks down at the floor. Long coal black hair falls like silk sheets over his shoulder. The head of the Uchiha clan rests his palms on his knees and waits for the drowsiness of sleep to leave him completely. Deep breathes normally do the trick as well as a payback of the events the day before. Fluttering his lashes with every inhale, Itachi's vision adjusts to the lack of light enough for him to see the outline of his feet.

Itachi looks over his shoulder to the other side of his bed. The lump of pale blue sheets move in harmony to breathing. His fingers twitch and slide from his thighs across the expanse of the bed towards his bed mate. A sharp pain pinches his shoulder. He hisses and stops his hand's wanderings until the pain subsides. Itachi looks down at his outstretched fingers pale against the cotton blanket, perfect contrast for the glitter of a gold wedding band to catch the minimal light. He stares at it unblinkingly for a moment. Then he sighs, balls his fist to hide the ring, stands and leaves the bedroom.

His house is both old and new, a refurbished place not quite in the old Uchiha compound but close. Living in that place would have been too much to bear. As Itachi walks the lifeless hall of his comfortably sized home, he can see glimpses of the place through the trees in the window.

Every day he tries not to look. Every day he fails.

The sun barely kisses the sky before he runs himself a warm bath. Itachi tries not to notice signs from his current life. There are certain places he just doesn't look, items that he tries not to give too much attention. Doubles of things that, for the longest time, was just one, just his and not hers. Itachi moves things out of the way, a razor, sweet scented body wash, an extra towel, not giving much thought to them as he runs his bathwater. Easing from his clothes, very conscious of his shoulder pain, he secures his hair in a topknot and watches and waits for the water. He washes then soaks in water up to his chin. All of it takes some thirty minutes before he dresses and secures his hair back without looking in the mirror. Between 3:30 and sometimes but rarely past 3:45, he cleans the tub and prepares a second bath. He is sure to be out of the bathroom and in the kitchen to start tea and breakfast.

Itachi moves quietly through the house, careful to step around the wood planks that make the most noise when going down the stairs. Sometimes he has to stop to pick up pieces of broken glass or a few shuriken on the way to the kitchen. Today, it's a vase from last night. Itachi pauses just short of the glittering white porcelain in the hall. As black hair shrouds his face, he bends silently and gathers the pieces in his hands one by one taking care with each one. His mother made this vase when he was just a boy. A pity it had to be a casualty.

When all is clean, he strains his eyes to check for any tiny bits, less either one of them suffer more consequences. There is none so he cradles the vase pieces, the vase made by his mother, into the kitchen and disposes of the shards in the same order with which he collected them. One by one, he drops them into the trash, expressionless and quiet.

The Uchiha detours to the living room instead of starting breakfast. If memory serves, there will be a bit of a mess in here as well. Sliding open the shoji door, the place is not as messy as his memory told him. Itachi sighs in relief and takes measured steps into the minimized chaos. A picture frame is out of place, sofa cushions on the floor and the end table near the sofa is pushed too far out with the trinkets it holds all knocked down. Itachi starts with the picture and readjusts it on the mantle before pausing to get a good look at it. When he does, he grimaces, as this too is something is tries to avoid.

Team Seven was said to be one of the greatest teams Konoha assembled. A team that gave raise to two Hokages, one medical extraordinaire and one formidable enemy. Judging from their squad picture, it is hard to tell that this bright faced kids would be anything more that big dreamers. Itachi brushes the pad of his thumb over the sullen scowl of his younger brother. His smile is sad and longing. Itachi turns away and hides his smile from his brother's face. Perhaps he should pay Sasuke a visit.

A knock at the door draws his attention. Itachi looks up to the ceiling, listening for noise before looking back to the front door. Walking to it, he reaches for the handle, then stops to adjust the sleeves of his shirt before greeting their visit.

"Good morning, Uchiha-san," it's the mailman, a civilian with a wide smile and gentle brown eyes.

Itachi nods his greeting. "Good morning."

"Here's the mail," the mailman holds out the letters, "I would have put it in the box but it looks like it's been knocked down or hit or something. Anyways, you're first on the route so I figured it won't slow me down too much to hand it to you directly."

"Hn," Itachi takes the small stack of mail and tucks it under his arm."Thank you."

The mailman smiles kindly and tips his hat. "Just doing my job. Not all heros can be shinobi, you know. Sometimes it's just regular people like us! Well, enjoy your day and tell Sakura-san good morning."

"Indeed," he mutters and watches the man as he goes on his way. Itachi stands in the doorway a few more seconds before closing it.

The words replay in his mind as he goes back to the living room to sit the mail on the coffee table. Itachi picks up some couch cushions scattered on the floor and pushes the shifted end table back against the sofa. Itachi puts everything back in its place and the little living area of his modest house feels like home again. He blinks once and looks out over the expanse of the room and its normal, common, plain appearance. Perhaps, perhaps _now_ he is just a regular person..

_Regular person_, Itachi gives the sentence a try, _I am not a shinobi anymore...just a regular person_.

His chest flutters. Itachi balls his fists then relaxes them a moment later, pushes down the feeling and turns towards the kitchen. It's time for breakfast.

The rice cooker goes on first, then the tea kettle. A little after 4 am, he opens the windows in the downstairs part of the house. Sunrise creeps higher and he likes to lean against the counter in the kitchen and watch the sky change from blue to red to yellow back to blue again. Itachi closes his eyes as his lower back presses into the tiled countertop. Arms crossed, he listens to the sounds of the morning. Songbirds perch on the branches of newly made birdhouse he'd finished the week before. The man made pond also constructed by his hands stirs with the gentle gust. Village background noise from market vendors and returning shinobi are distant music to what's in his house.

Itachi only opens his eyes when the floorboards above squeak and the gurgling noise of the emptying bath mix with closing doors.

Time to start the eggs. He makes them sunny side up, four in total, two for each of them. Every morning, at 4:45 am, Sakura comes into the kitchen to find eggs and a bowl of rice with a steaming cup of tea waiting for her.

Itachi doesn't take a seat yet. He gives her space and remains near the counter adjacent from the table. He watches her green eyes from his vantage. Her pink hair sticks to the side of her face from washing it in the bath. She dresses in her bathrobe complete with matching white house slippers.

"Good morning, Sakura," Itachi's voice is calm but tucked under his crossed arms are two clenched fist.

Sakura's eyes flutter over the table before flickering over to him. For a second, the only noise in the kitchen is the inconsistent and quite random little thud of water dripping from pink hair onto the wood floor. A plethora of emotions play across her face. She holds his gaze for a few seconds before turning away.

"Itachi," finally she speaks then moves to the table and kneels near her breakfast. "Who was at the door this morning?"

Dark eyes follow her movements but stays put, "The mailman hand delivered the mail since the mailbox is down. He sends his greetings to you."

Sakura doesn't outwardly react but Itachi knows her better. "Okay," she replies and uses her chopsticks to cut the eggs. "You made tea?"

"Yes. Rose tea this morning. Would you have prefered something different?"

She half shrugs and closes her eyes to inhale "It smells good. Is it new?"

Itachi turns the question over in his mind then shakes his head. "No. It was a wedding present from Shizune. You've had it before."

Her eyes open slowly. Though Sakura doesn't say anything, Itachi notes the slight tightening of her grip on the chopsticks. His wife looks back at the cup that wafts out gentle scents of pink and white rose petals. Sakura's nose twitches a little. Itachi catches the fleeting emotion just as light dims in her eyes. He can imagine the thought currently playing in her head. Sakura takes a piece of egg and eats it, green eyes glued to the cup of tea.

"Oh," Sakura whispers then looks at the plate across from hers, "Are you going to eat?"

Itachi's response is automatic. "Not yet."

Her gaze turns sour, "Itachi, you don't have to stand way over there like…"

"I am aware," he cuts her off and looks at the table. "But I would prefer this."

For a moment he thinks he sees a look of guilt but Sakura turns her head away from him before he can make a definite assessment.

Itachi looks at his own eggs across from her. They will be cold by the time he gets to eating them. It can't be helped though, not at the moment. He is, after all, married now, for better or for worse he is. Itachi can think of a number of things far worse. Just the same as he can think of another of things far better. Despite his thoughts, Haruno Sakura is his wife and this is his life now, cold eggs and all.

He takes to looking out of the window over the kitchen sink. By now, the sun is high enough that he doesn't need to turn on lights in the house. It casts a bright white glow on the stainless steel sink. Itachi's eyes slowly go unfocused as he stares and wonders. He certainly could eat his eggs now. Most married couples eat together when they can. But the question is whether she will let him. Sakura's temperament is as changing as the wind and he's learned to take caution with little things.

"You cleaned up," Sakura's voice draws his attention.

Itachi looks down at her small hands, one holding up the bowl of rice and the other pulling chopsticks down from her lips. Those hands that can easily break the ceramic dish if she wants it so. The same hands that heal him of his disease. The same hands that hold him.

"I did," Itachi responds cooly.

Sakura's lips twitch and, much to his surprise, she looks upon him with kind eyes that glitter with a sort of playful innocence that makes him stand up a bit straighter. Itachi looks away for a brief second, trying to place this new thing she's done. When his eyes look back to her, the rice bowl is down and she's pulling herself up from the cushion. Her feet cross the distance and reaches for him.

His chest clenches at the pressure on his wrist when she pulls, triggering his earlier pain. Itachi lets her lead him to the table. Suddenly, Sakura swings around, pink hair fraying out, temporarily filling the air with the sweet smell of cherry shampoo. She steps close to him. Itachi holds completely still when her hand reaches for his cheek and rests there.

Green eyes look on him critically, dancing from one spot to another. Itachi watches her eyes, wishing for all his worth that he could see them like he used too. But he can't. He's a second behind each movement when, before, he was always a second ahead. Sakura surprises him. She always surprises him but only because he can't read her. He can't read anyone, not anymore. '_Regular people like us_'. The phrase comes back with alarming clarity and suddenly Itachi wants to move away from her hands. Away from this house, this village, this life.

_Regular people._

Sakura's lips part, gasping quietly. Itachi does not make assumptions and waits while she watches him. She reaches up for a lock of his hair then pulls it forward to shade the side of his face she once held. Then and only then does she lean up and kiss him minutely. Automatically his eyes slip close.

His lips are hers to do as she pleases. Itachi lets her kiss him like he lets her do a lot of things. He needs this. He needs her. She needs him and they lean on each other, sucking the life from each other. It's not always her at fault. Some days he is provoking, other days they both do it to each other. Sakura's mind is as changing as her emotions but, just like him, she's perceptive. She knows him. She knows how to kiss him with expert knowledge of his neediness. Sakura has a way with her tongue that fascinates him almost as much as it frightens him. This is the woman that kisses him with the same mouth she curses him. Itachi sinks under both of them and falls more and more into everything Sakura is.

When her hands and fingers, so slender and rough, cradle his face, Itachi allows his thoughts to flip through every good thing this marriage gives him. Sakura saved him in ways indescribable. Because of her, he was allowed to return to the place he called home. Because of her, he is not a prisoner. His debt is infinite as the entire village likes to remind him. She is the one who sacrificed so much for a criminal. That's what they say because that's what they see. Itachi sees Sakura in ways no one else does. She gives him life while wishing for his death. Even as her lips slide over his, he's very aware that her thoughts are elsewhere on someone else. Then again, so are his. So he holds her the way he knows she wants him to, by the waist and tightly.

Then the tingles start and the sizzling hum of medical chakra fizzle near his ears. Flickers of light spark in the corner of his eye. Itachi stops his lips from moving, trying to pull away. Sakura tightens her hold on his face and presses the finger closest to the bruise on his eye into his skin. His eyes open and he sees that hers are still closed. She keeps kissing him and holding him and healing him. The combination of sensations, lips to lips, healing chakra to open cuts down his cheek and black eye, heartbeat against heartbeat: Itachi stops his resistance.

The healing lasts only a few seconds. Sakura pulls away then tucks the hair that she moved over his eye behind his ear. She smirks, pleased, happy, and caresses his face. Itachi holds his breath at this breathtaking view of his Sakura, so sweet and so kind. Holding her close, having coming down from the high of a good morning kiss, he can almost forget that she is the reason he was in need of healing in the first place.

"You should eat, Sakura." Itachi finally says. "You have work at the hospital today."

Sakura pulls back but doesn't move away. "Only until early evening. Then Ino and I are going to go hang out for a bit." she backs away after that, leaving his arms for the table instead.

He congratulates himself mentally for not reaching out and pulling her back to him. Itachi does, however, dare to ask.

"Again?"

To Sakura's credit, her anger did not flash like it normally does but her tone is sharp. "We just want to spend some girl time together. You know how I work and how busy she is. We hardly get to see each other. If it makes you feel better, I promise to be back before dinner."

Itachi stays quiet a moment, assessing her words. The choice is hers."Stay out with her longer, if you wish."

Sakura sits her bowl down when she regards him, his instincts flare in warning. "If I wish? Do you _want _me to stay out late?"

"It's not about me. Do as you please," he responds evenly.

Sakura narrows her eyes suspiciously at him. "If you don't want me around, Itachi, just say so. I'll spend the night at Ino and Sai's place."

He watches as she takes to eating again, avoiding his gaze the entire time. Though her reasoning eludes him. They both know what this is so why does Sakura look so guilty? Perhaps she is in need of reminding.

"There is no need for you to stay there, Sakura. This is your home as well as mine. However, if you choose to stay, I will not stop you."

She huffs, shakes her head and rolls her eyes all at the same time. "Three years and you'd think we'd be better at communicating." she gripes and snatches her bowl of rice.

Sensing a shift in tone, Itachi tries to clarify, speaking slowly to be sure she understands him. "I've said my honest thoughts to you, Sakura. Where is the miscommunication?"

She avoids his gaze and bites her lip. Itachi waits with all the patience he has for her to tell him what is really behind her snapping at him this morning. Sakura takes only a few minutes before her cheeks tint pink. A lesser man would assume she is blushing from some lecherous thought. He knows that she can blush for a number of things...but lechery with regards to _him_ is not one of them.

Sakura speaks. Hushed and muffled. "Why…? Why can't you...just pretend to care about me for once?"

Itachi blinks. Then blinks again. For a moment, he thinks he's heard her wrong. Is that not what they do everyday? Pretend? He's been pretending to care about everything for three years now. For her sake. More importantly and closer to her previous outburst, her frustrations confuse him because she _knows _what this _is_.

So why this? Why now? He frowns and stares at her staring at the kitchen sink. Sakura will not even look at him. That is even more of a reminder of their unique situation. She's had to heal this eye this morning, another reminder of his 'care'. Hell, he's in this village because of her, this marriage because of her, this...moment of uselessness because of her.

Itachi's fist clench to white knuckles as years of longing return and taunt with him with how he can't read her mind. He tapers his temper to give her an answer.

"That's not quite how this works, Sakura."

His words make her head snap in his direction and demands of him. "Then explain it to me."

Itachi shakes his head, not wanting to go there so early in the day.

"The agreements of this marriage is something we both know. You are my wife. I am your husband. I am here for whatever you need. You are here to keep the elders pacified."

The coloring in Sakura's cheeks darken as well as the storm in her green eyes. She glares fiercely at him and nearly splints her chopsticks.

"So that's it? We're just an agreement? Screw whatever the hell happens, so long as we keep our word?"

Slowly, Itachi shrugs one shoulder. "We are what we are, Sakura."

"How can you be so passive about this?"

"Would you rather I respond in anger?"

"I hit you!" Sakura yells, snapping her chopsticks in half and cracking the ceramic bowl of rice. She slams them both on the table. "You didn't even try to stop me last night."

To this Itachi nods once in agreement. "Yes, you did. Not for the first time, might I add. My response was the same last night as it was the other times your temper turned violent. Why are you so upset about it now?"

Sakura smacks her teeth at him. "Why didn't you stop me? Why did you let me just do that to you? Why didn't you do somethin-"

"With what?" Itachi quickly cuts her off, quirky a brow at her outburst. "Have you forgotten so quickly that you are the one that took my Sharingan? That you are here to make sure I am to remain without it and any sizeable amount of chakra?"

Itachi turns his palms up and spreads them before her. "Do you want my indignation at your actions?"

"Yes! God, Itachi give me something to show that...that you don't hate me." Sakura pleads. "I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry. Yesterday was so overwhelming and they were talking about Sasuke and I saw you and I...I just snapped. But you didn't even bat an eye at what I'd done. You started the day like every other day, making me breakfast and watching me eat as if nothing I do matters to you. I could give you a black eye or sleep at another man's house and you'd just take it all in stride."

Itachi closes his eyes and listens to her rant. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from telling her of the contradictions and hypocrisy of her accusation towards him. The very reason this marriage works is because Sakura hates him and he hates himself for what happened to Sasuke. Their mutual hatred allows her anger the best outlet. The target of her hatred is submissive to her abuse due to his own self loathing over the same issue. Itachi lets Sakura do as she pleases to him as penitence for not keeping his promise to keep Sasuke safe. And alive. She speaks of hate as if it is a nonexistent or one sided thing in their marriage when it is actually at its foundation.

Now, just like yesterday, he will suffer her abuse. Ease her burden, carry her anger, take everything as recompense. Even this. He's at the mercy of her indulgence and whims, her outburst and accusations.

Shaking his head, he opens his eyes and tries to soothe her ruffled feathers. "I don't hate you, Sakura. I also don't take what you do in stride. I understand you."

Itachi leans over the table and grabs her chopsticks, switching them with his own. He exchanges their rice bowls as well. "I'm sorry if my way of processing things upset you. I'll be more open, if that's what you truly wish. As for yesterday, you didn't hurt me as bad as you think. I forgive you for hitting me. And, unless I am on a mission, I make it a habit not to hit women."

She snorts at this. "So now you can't fight back because I'm a girl?"

He can't win with her. She'll find fault in whatever he says or does, whether it's eating breakfast or being a gentleman. Deep down, she despises him and her actions are all filtered through that.

Itachi knows that.

Sakura knows that.

They both pretend it doesn't exist.

"You're strong," Itachi appeases, "You can hurt me if you really wanted to and we both know that there is little I can do to stop you."

Sakura doesn't protest his words or his actions. Itachi watchs as she starts eating his rice, red faced but appeased. He could laugh at her misgivings. Last night and this morning is no different. In the end, he does as she pleases and it pleases her to be pleased. Itachi is open to her whims. Her power over him stems from her hatred of him turning Sasuke into what he was. So if Sakura wants to kiss him, he opens his mouth. If she wants to hit him, he doesn't flinch. If she wants to argue, he indulges then apologizes when she demands it. The balance and bases of their relationship has not changed at all.

Sakura will pretend this is just some normal marital spat. She'll go to work and gossip to her coworkers about their 'lovers' quarrel' this morning, but vent her hatred of him tonight to Ino. Itachi can't be angry at that. After all, this marriage is little more than a lifelong mission for her, one that's taken away a precious milestone that all women hope for. Her indignation is justified. He doubts that when she perfected her medical craft, Sakura dreamed that it will one day tie her and hold her hostage to a known criminal in an unhappy, sham marriage. For better or for worse, she is a glorified babysitter and prison guard.

"What's for dinner?" Sakura finally speak with a mouth full of rice.

Itachi's thoughts halts then discontinue altogether. He eases down on his cushion but doesn't touch the food. "What would you like?"

Sakura shrugs and finishes the eggs, "Surprise me."

He nods and watches as she stands up from the table. Sakura looks down at him and cocks her head to the side. She smiles almost lovingly. "Thank you for understanding, Itachi. Oh and I owe you a new vase. I'll find one on the way back from work."

Itachi's jaw muscles flex in tune with the sudden fluctuation in his chest. That vase was the only thing he had left of his parents. The same parents he killed, along with his entire clan in the very same massacre that should have left him with consequences of death. At the moment, he wished it had. But he will not say as much.

"There is no need," Itachi replies and looks at his eggs "That vase belonged to my mother. There are no more in production."

"Not even an old one in some antique shop?"

"It would be a rare find."

"Ah, I'll look into it," Sakura assures, "Besides, it's the least I can do." She walks over to him, leans down and presses her lips to the crown of his head. "I'll make it up to you."

Sakura pulls back and leaves the room with the linger scent of cherry shampoo. Itachi knows this is as close to an apologize she'll give him. In many ways it's better because she usually does make it up to him in one way or another. In an odd sort of way, he lives for those moments when Sakura is the sweetest she'll ever be to him.

Itachi finishes his breakfast and it's only as he's clearing the table does he realize Sakura did not take one sip of her tea. Itachi's holding the full cup, looking into its watery depth when his wife comes back into the kitchen, fully dressed. He looks up at her and she watches him.

Sakura ignores the obvious question on his face to ask her own. "Are you going out today or staying inside? It's nice out, maybe you could get some fresh air."

Itachi doesn't answer. He turns towards the sink and pours her tea, the rose tea Shizune bought for their wedding, down the drain of the kitchen sink. He watches the pink tinted liquid slide down and disappear. Its subtle rose aroma slowly fades and he sits the cup down to roll up his sleeves for cleaning.

"Itachi?" Sakura calls.

He doesn't turn around as he hears her approach. Sakura stands beside him then leans a little to get into his line of vision. Itachi takes great care to peek at her face through his hair. She takes his arm in both hands then wraps her fingers around the purple green and red markings up to nearly his elbows.

Itachi turns his body slightly to watch as the sting of healing chakra shoots up his arm up to his shoulder. Sakura keeps her head slightly bowed and if he leans in just right, he gets a nose full of the cherry scent skin products she favors. Itachi does just that, leans down and closes his eyes as he buries his face in her hair.

Sakura heals him with the same hands that hurt him. She warms his entire body with skills that can break him. The same woman that can make him taste cherry scents in the morning and bitter blood at night. His Sakura. His wife. Sakura's fury is, if anything, a small mercy. The gods could do so much worse than a whirlwind of his cherry blossom.

When she's done, Itachi moves his arm to pull her into his side. Sakura goes to him easily and holds still when he leans down to kiss her cheek. She sighs, he congratulates himself on an accurate assessment of her needs. This morning, Sakura wants affection from him. Itachi gives it freely and kisses her forehead and other cheek as well.

"I'll go outside," Itachi whispers to her ear.

"For how long?"

Itachi presses his cheek to hers. "A few hours, perhaps. I want to finish the back garden. Afterwards, I may go to one of the train grounds if they are empty. If time allows, I was considering going to see Sasuke."

Suddenly, Sakura draws back from every point of contact they have and turns away from him. Itachi stands straight then frowns as she walks away. He follows silently after her retreating form to the living room of their home. Sakura wordlessly puts on her shoes, fastening the small heels in place with her back to him. He doesn't need her to look at him to know that face she's making. Though he thought he'd given her an answer she would be pleased with, the aggression with which she forces her shoe straps in place screams otherwise.

"I've already changed the flowers at the site so if that's why you're going to see Sasuke, don't bother." Sakura informs the stands, "I'll be back with the vase. Try not to train too hard."

Then she leaves without so much as a backwards glance. Itachi looks at the closed door then sighs. Right. He broke the illusion by mentioning the person she likes to pretend he is. A small oversight that Itachi will be careful not to make in the future.

"Training will have to wait," he muses aloud and looks over his shoulder. Hopefully when Sakura comes home, she does not have a desire to destroy the living room again.

Itachi goes to sits on the couch in the quietness of their home. He'll plan dinner first, something nice that Sakura will enjoy and hopefully oversee his mess up.

Itachi grabs the notepad on the dining table, tears off the page with the sprinkles of dark red blood then makes his shopping list for all of her favorite things.


	2. Speak Slowly. And In Small Words

_ “There will be time, there will be time _

_ To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; _

_ There will be time to murder and create, _

_ And time for all the works and days of hands _

_ That lift and drop a question on your plate; _

_ Time for you and time for me, _

_ And time yet for a hundred indecisions, _

_ And for a hundred visions and revisions.” _

#####  _The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, **T.S Eliot**_

* * *

Sakura’s head leans heavily on her hand as fingers tangle in soft pink hair for purchase. The small industrial table lamp, balancing haphazardly on corner of a crowded work space, shines dusty streams of light on the piece of parchment laying flat on her desk. Eyes half closed and unfocused, she blinks away the dull haze that clouds vivid green pupils, stretches her lids wide then squeezes them tight before looking at the file again. 

Sakura’s shoulders shiver as if to rid herself of the cold burden that weighs so heavy on muscles so thin but not fraile. She exhales and wipes the itch from her nose.

The small cramped space of her temporary office is not ideal by any means. Having been used to the expansive lab and workplace in the hospital, Sakura has to make adjustments to her temporary refurbishing lodgings. The musky air of the hastily built room is a magnet for dust mites. She isn't the only one compromising on work space. Everyone is making due as Yamato and others work hard to keep up with the demands of this expanding village. She will not complain about something as silly as an office that doubles as an escape room. It’s durable and nearly soundproof and hers and that’s what matters. 

A sneeze escapes, disrupting the dust stream and succeeding at waking her up a little. Her head jerks. Sakura adjusts herself in the chair and clears the tickles in her throat. Despite the pulling feeling of drowsiness from too long hours spent filling up on information then pouring it out while examining patients, there’s an ease and familiarity to this place that makes being hunched over a desk face deep in medical jargon relaxing. She is in desperate need of time to relax, to unwind...to distract herself as best she can.

Looking over the file before her, the head medic tries to do her best to stay distracted. But with sleep creeping in and the mild sinus reaction to the dust making her head a bit foggy, Sakura’s mind naturally wanders to the thing she hopes to avoid.

She wants, more than ever, to have a moment to relax, to breathe. The constant demand from the hospital and medical clinics alike commands so much of her attention that her home should be a refugee from the day. 

It’s not. 

It’s work, wrapped in heartache, shrouded in black hair, that stares at her with unwavering dark eyes. Sakura’s stare always wavers under eyes of black fire. She can’t hold them, she can’t read them to know the secrets they hold. So she hides from them and scrambles for old things that used to make her feel less afraid. 

But it’s not quite working how she hopes. She’s read and reread the same page four times already and the information is still a wisping thought. The only thing her mind’s retained is ‘high levels of protein in the blood’ but every other fact about Patient X is lost to the musings of her inner turmoil. 

_ I hate this _, she thinks and frowns, then flips the page of the patient file. 

Patient X, though not in immediate danger, is the last case she needs to sign off on for the evening. It’s the weekend. Late into Saturday night, the buzz of young professionals eager to relax the week's stress way is in full gear. Most hospital staff have gone home. In such a times as this, the day has been relatively quiet. Missions are slow. The only major trauma the hospital’s seen is a young boy with a broken leg from a freak accident while playing outside. The incident pulled her from bed last night, much to her relief. Aside from the boy who is in stable condition, there’s patient X with high levels of protein in his blood. 

Although she likes to be thorough and not cut corners or leave things undone, there is no need for her to be here at this hour. The many staff members, doctors and nurses are more than capable to handle what little patients they have. Patient X is not even being held overnight, yet Sakura rereads the blood work in his chart, agonizes over a diagnosis for the sole purpose of wasting time. 

As she goes over the information for the third time, frustration and weariness and sinuses pull her eyelids closed again. Her head jerks after a few seconds doze. Sakura groans in her throat, folds her arms on the desk then drops her forehead in her arms. 

“_ Come on _, Sakura. You know there’s not enough information here to draw any concrete diagnosis. The results are inconclusive. Why couldn’t you have something else wrong with you?”

Her accusations towards Patient X’s lack of any real problem tugs her lips into a frown. “What self respecting medic _ wants _ their patients to be sick? A pathetic one, obviously. What is wrong with you, Sakura?”

She chides herself and frowns even more at the tickling desire for some other medical emergency to suddenly spring on her. 

“There has to be something else I can do here. Something that won’t put other’s life in danger. Something that can keep me here just a little longer…”

She pulls her head up from the desk and looks around her cramped office. Standing, Sakura stretches arms taut over her head and walks about until she's before the one large window behind her chair.

The Konoha skyline in the backdrop of night is a light show of neon restaurant signs, hotels and hangouts. Sakura lays her fingers against the windowpane and gazes out at the ebb and flow of the evening crowd. Men and women, teen boys and teen girls all enjoy what fun and extravagance Konoha has to offer. Their once near rural hidden village blossomed into something more modern. She so longs to be a part of that, to be down there with the men and women enjoying the changes of their village, trying new foods and shops and bars. 

Sakura snorts and rolls her eyes at herself. 

_ I wouldn’t even know how to enjoy myself if I decided to have a night on the town…. _

The medical ninja sighs heavily. The grave reality of her delay mentally looks back at her with impassive coal black eyes.

_ I‘m such a coward.’ _ she admits remorsefully, leans her forehead against the cool glass and closes her eyes. _ ‘A kunoichi shrinking away from her mission...isn't that a sight. _

A mission that she readily took when it was proposed six years ago. What started as a desperate theory by a village in the clutches of destruction, became Sakura's most successful and iconic medical achievement to date. No one knew if Uchiha Itachi would survive. The state they found him in was perhaps the most perturbing thing she’d beheld. Battered from battle wounds, missing eyes and an internal wrecked from a debilitating illness, Itachi should not have survived. 

But they needed him. He was the only one that could stop Sasuke’s War.

Sakura and a team of some twenty medics worked tirelessly on a soulless corpse: reattaching, resurrecting and rectifying his body. There were no guarantees, only hopes that maybe a year’s efforts would pay off. 

The first heartbeat was a modern miracle. Still brain dead but breathing, the day Itachi open his newly created eyes was the day Sasuke's bid for revenge came to a tragic end, and; Sakura’s fate as an esteemed medic and prisoner in her prison guard duty was sealed. 

Just thinking about it makes her fingers curl against the window and her chest tighten with an understood anger. Not everyone is grateful to Itachi because not everyone knows of the true reason for the Massacre. A twisted part of her takes pleasure in knowing that others do despise him for his choice to murder his kinsmen. Knowing that she’s not alone is a crude but calming justification of her actions. 

The chill of the window pane makes her move away. Sakura rubs her forehead and drags her hands down her face.

“I can't keep hiding or hoping it will go away,”

She bites her lip “...or that someone would save me….I have to go through with it…”

No soon as Sakura determines in her mind to leave, a frantic pounding at her door pulls her tired eyes away from scenery. 

_ Yes! _

“Sakura-san!” it's one of young intern nurses working under her. “Sakura-san! I really hate to bother you but this is an emergency. Well. Not really an emergency but still!”

It's Honoka, a young civilian who aspires to be a capable medic since the end of the war. She studies directly under Sakura and it's not unusual for her to seek her out for questions. 

Honoka also tends to exaggerate and that dulls the pinch of excitement slowly stirring in Sakura's bones.

_ It’s probably nothing….or maybe like a mission injury? _

Moving from the window and gathering her things to leave, Sakura forces herself take her time with walking to the door, cracking her neck and rolling her shoulders to rid herself of sleep and turning off lights in her wake. Trying to tame her excitement at the prospect of more work, she takes a deep breath and stops the twitching smirk before opening the door.

Honoka greets her with a broad smile full of excitement and relief. She's already grabbing her by the wrist to pull her away.

“I'm sorry to bother you, Sakura-san, but you need to come right now. Someone needs you.”

_ Yeah...doesn't sound like an emergency…. _

Sakura blinks and tugs her wrist to keep Honoka from forcing her out of the door. The young brunette pulls to a halt questioningly but waits obediently for Sakura’s next move. 

“Wait, Honoka,” Sakura calmly asks, “Can you say that again?”

Honoka lets her go and turns to gesture at the hall with her hands, an air of complete seriousness.

“Someone at the front desk is looking for you and told me to get you downstairs by any means necessary.”

The brunette repeats, a little more animated and lot more impatient. Sakura stands a bit straighter now and looks incredulously at her intern. Very few people would attempt to drag her from work. 

Immediately she thinks of Itachi.

She presses her eyes closed as the metal door handle folds against her strength, dimpling in places where her fingers dig in. She is only a little late. There's no reason for him play the good husband and come to _ get _her.

Sakura frowns and loosens her grip on the door handle, trying to pull herself together. She should not be acting this way. It’s already been three years. He is her husband for Christ’s sake! Even if their marriage is basically a farce for her mission’s sake, Honoka doesn't know that. Neither does anyone else except those who gave her the covert task in the first place. 

“Sakura-san?” Honoka asks, voice laced with confusion and worry, draws her back to the present.

The young intern silently questions her misstep but Sakura waves her hand to clear the air of confusion. It’s an effort for Sakura to shake off her ill feelings. Her free hand rubs her eyes, hiding stress in the process. When she looks at Honoka again, she forces her face to look at least half as professional about this as she should be. 

“Who is it?”

Honoka fidgets, Sakura notices, and looks away as she replies. “Erm, it’s supposed to be a surprise.”

_ Surprise? _

Relief washes over her and she almost sighs but she catches herself as brows furrow in confusion. Surprises are not like her husband at all, which significantly narrows the culprits of this little game. Naruto comes to mind but the future Hokage lacks the subtlety for a well executed surprise. Kakashi is too busy and Tsunade would have broken down the door. 

_ Everyone else is either too loud or too busy to surprise me. Oh! Maybe Kankuro and Gaara are here? _

The puppet master has a knack for just showing up. They are close enough that surprises aren't unusual. He's subtle enough to pull it off in this way. 

_ I'll take what I can get. Plus, he owes me a sample of that new herb they spliced! Score! _

Confident in her hypothesis, excited about the prospect of more medical research, Sakura genuinely grins and steps into the hallway.

“Okay, I was leaving anyway.”

She locks up, making a mental note to put in a request for a handle replacement, then allows Honoka to take the lead to the front desk of the newly repaired hospital. The young woman stays quiet and the pinkette assumes it’s for her sake. Seeking to ease the tension, Sakura makes light conversation about the day and change of the seasons as autumn slowly moved in. They converse that way until Honoka’s natural upbeat nature returns.

Upon stepping out of the elevator and rounding the corner, Sakura spots the small entourage of two waiting patiently and chatting with the receptionist in the lobby. Much to her relief, Itachi is not among them. 

Unfortunately neither is Kankuro.

“They told me not to tell,” Honoka quickly adds as they near the desk.

Sakura imagines Honoka spots her disappointment. The medical jounin just chuckles and pats the intern on the back. 

“It’s okay, Honoka. Thanks for coming to get me.”

While not the much anticipated bearer of possible antidotes, Lee is always good company. When he spots her, beaming a smile in her direction, genuine joy replaces the day’s stress. Sakura acknowledges him with a small wave as he nudges Tenten, who pulls herself upright from leaning over the counter. 

“Sakura!” Lee exclaims, “there you are.”

Shouldering her bag, Sakura closes the distance, nodding to the receptionist and goes for a hug with Tenten.

“Lee, Tenten, you guys are my surprise?” she laughs, “it feels like it's been ages! How’ve you been?”

Honoka beams triumphantly, “Told you I could get her down.”

“Yeah, just scream emergency and I'll come running,” Sakura jokes.

Tenten chuckles and shakes her head. The brunette gives her a cocky smile that only Tenten can pull off without it appearing rude. “ Thanks Honoka,”

The young medic salutes then waves goodbye to the group as Tenten turns to answer Sakura's question.

“Aside from stopping Lee from training Metal to death?”

“Hey!” Lee exclaims but Tenten pushes him aside.

“Busy but not busy,” she continues. “The shop is...well, doing as best as it can considering the times. Not that I’m complaining. It would be nice though to have more customers. How are you?”

“Oh, you know,” Sakura glances around and gestures at the lobby. “There’s always something going on at the hospital or the medical clinics.”

Lee smiles brightly and grabs Sakura earnestly by the shoulder “You have been very busy. All of us have, hence this rescue mission.”

The pinkette blinks and looks between the both of them, confused. “Rescue mission? Wait, did Naruto put you up to this?”

“Not at all, “ Lee's says seriously.

“Take her,” the older woman behind the desk chimes nosely, all while keeping her eyes on paperwork.

“Hey!” Sakura playfully exclaims, “I'm needed here. There's a lot of things, new programs and stuff that I oversee.”

“...even more things that can run without you,” not short on sass, the receptionist gives the crew a knowing look as she gathers documents. “ don't let her talk you into bringing her back any time soon. You can roll your eyes all day long, Sakura-san, but you know I'd kick you out myself if I could. Keep her as late as possible.”

Sakura bulks at the comment, ready to retort but Tenten promptly loops her arm around Sakura’s and practically drags her to the door

“We plan to!” the brunette assures and sweeps the young medic outside and into the hustle of nightlife.

The dramatics of it all make Sakura laugh and she goes along with both Tenten and Lee guiding her down the street just for kicks.

“You've got to be kidding me. Are you guys serious right now? I don't need to be dragged out of the hospital.”

“The receptionist humbly disagrees,” Lee says.

Sakura smacks her teeth, “I do go home sometimes you know.”

“Not the point.” Tenten counters seriously, “Home and hanging out are two totally different things.”

“I hang out with my husband.”

“That may be true,” Lee adds and throws an arm across her shoulder. “Tonight however, we wish to hang out with you.”

“Seriously though, we haven’t seen you in awhile, let alone hung out since you’ve been barricaded in the hospital most days.” Tenten raises a brow and asks,”Didn’t you just get a bunch of new interns? You should have less work now.”

Sakura huffs in mild disappointment and rolls her eyes. “Yea but they are interns. I have to check on them quite a lot.” 

Tenten snorts playfully and gives her a knowing look as the three of them walk the streets. “All I hear is ‘I’m not disturbing by workload’. You should use the medical team to your advantage and focus on other things. Especially now since Ino’s working with Interrogation. Let them help you.”

_ But I don’t want to. I want to be as busy as possible. _Sakura thinks and forces a smile. 

“I know. I know, I guess old habits die hard. I’m so used to throwing myself in everything, I forget about myself, you know.”

Tenten dramatically rolls her eyes as if expecting such an answer. Sakura finds herself giggle, something she hasn’t done in what feels like ages. 

“The point is,” Tenten stresses, “Old habits do die hard but that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun. Hence the rescue mission, thanks to Temari. We’re all meeting at a bar tonight. Shikamaru knew that if one of us didn’t come to get you, you would probably say no.”

Lee cuts in just as cheerful and inspiring as Sakura remembers, “Yes, Sakura. You can’t let youth pass you by just because things have changed. Sometimes you need a moment to relax and recharge. What better way to do so than with friends?”

Sakura almost says yes. 

The earnest plea in Tenten’s eyes, Lee’s childlike hope almost makes her forget where she needs to be. The temptation to accept is strong. If it were Kankuro, she could hide behind the excuse of work. A sample that needs examining. She's fulfilling other medical duties as is her role. 

But this is different. 

_ Asking to train would have been easier than this. Then I wouldn't feel guilty for flaking just to get drunk. _

There are only so many excuses she can give to not be home. Kakashi is kind enough to overlook most of her double and triple shifts but she doubts he'll take too kindly to her using Anbu to do her job. 

_ Last night was understandable because of emergency surgery. Asking them to watch him tonight just so I can hangout would be irresponsible… and a waste of shinobi resources…. _

“So?” Tenten carefully presses, drawing Sakura from her reverie.

She bites her lip. They come up short at the intersection between downtown and quieter neighborhoods. Looking between their two expecting faces, Sakura carefully removes her arm from Tenten. 

The mission comes first.

Itachi comes first.

It doesn't matter that she wants to see Shikamaru and Temari argue, or watch Lee barely hold down a cup of sake. The mission takes precedence.

The brunette blinks and looks to Tenten then Lee. Sakura sees the fleeting question. Knows what her response will trigger. 

_ Please don't hate me for this. _

Sakura’s gut turns sour and she looks everywhere but at them now as the cheerful mood from earlier slowly wanes. She shoulders her medic bag and takes a step back towards home.

“That sounds...really fun,” Sakura starts, feeling her voice crack at her own hesitation. “And I would love to come but,”

“So come,” Lee insists, “everyone will wait for you. You can clean up if you like and meet us later.”

She swallows hard, glancing at Tenten and then to Lee and finally behind her at the Hokage monuments, hoping for strength. Her feet shift anxiously. Sakura rubs her forearm then tucks hair behind her ear to keep her hands from fidgeting.

“Sorry guys, I can’t.” Sakura confesses with an oddly sober and serious tone. “It sounds like a cool idea but not tonight. I have to check on Itachi. Maybe another time?”

Tenten’s eyes narrow a fraction making Sakura twitch slightly at the brief flicker of discontent. When the weapon’s specialist speaks, her words come slow, careful.

“Check on him?”

“Erm” Sakura rubs the back of her neck, regretting the truthful choice of words. She does have to check on him, but not the way Tenten may think, “I mean, I haven’t seen him since last night. We...haven’t spent any time today.”

She tries to ignore the disappointment on Tenten’s face. Or Lee’s obvious hurt at being dismissed. Guilt makes it hard to look them in the eye now as the urge to barricade herself in the hospital returns.

“It's complicated” Sakura offers in appeasement.

“Huh? How so? You're just going to a bar, Sakura. It's not like you're leaving the village for a night. How is that complicated ”

_ Because I'm still on a mission though… _

Frustration makes the medic scratch her temples. Complicated is far too simple a term to describe her and Itachi’s relationship. Even if she could find proper words, truthful words, Sakura can't tell them to Tenten or Lee or anyone.

Licking her lips, the medical ninja takes another step back, hoping for an easy escape. Sakura tries for the longing faithful wife and shrugs a shoulder as she explains, “It’s different when you’re single, you know. You don’t have to answer to someone but I can’t just make decisions by myself. When you’re married, you’re like a team so I have to check with him first.”

The minute the words leave, Sakura regrets every single one, especially since this is Tenten. She is the poster child for the independent woman and Sakura realizes, belatedly that she sounds like anything but. Groaning at the now horrified look on the brunette’s face, her shoulders slump in exhaustion.

_ I’m so bad at this _.

Tenten purses her lips then folds her arms. “Alright. Um. I know...I know I’m probably the last person to give relationship advice here. And I get that being married is different. I see Ino and Sai all the time consulting each other but it's different with you and Itachi, right Lee?”

Sakura looks to Lee, who nods in agreement. “We do see you less…”

Tenten and Lee are not wrong. She wants, more than anything to make them understand that she _ has _ to do this. Itachi demands almost all of her attention because the perimeters of her mission says he must be in her guardianship for a certain number of hours in a day. 

Her plight balances on the tip of her, wanting to be voiced but forced to be swallow. The makings of a tension headache pinches nerves that send a sharp pain down the side of her neck. Sakura swallows against the lump in her throat, rubs her free shoulder to loosen the forming knot.

_ Don't freak out. Don't freak out. _

Quickly she tries to ease tensions, laughing to make light of her uneasiness while trying to put an end to Tenten’s suspicions. “That's not fair, you can't compare me to Ino and Sai. We're different.”

Tenten waves a dismissive hand, “It's not really about comparing you to them but marriage in general. You're just not...you.”

“People change,” Sakura contests, taking another step back from them.

“Nobody's challenging that. But you shouldn't have to get permission to live your life. You’re a _ person _, Sakura. You can still make your own choices. Itachi can’t...control you like that.”

“He doesn’t_ control _ me,” Sakura’s shift in pitch manages to take Tenten off guard and cause passersby to glance in their direction. 

The attention halts the conversation long enough for the medic to notice the high frequency ringing in her ears. The knots in her shoulder blade tighten as she fights against the pressing needed to hyperventilate.

_ Please please stop. _

Before Tenten can comment, Lee quickly steps between them, placing a hand on Sakura’s arm. “I do not think Tenten meant it in that way, Sakura.” 

“I did,” Tenten gripes.

“She is a person, Tenten, and very strong. I do not think Itach is any more controling her than Sai is controlling Ino. Or Naruto Hinata. Sakura does have a point. As man and wife, as a team, giving each other updates on what they are doing is probably best.”

Tenten rolls her eyes and side steps Lee to jab him in the shoulder. “Don’t change your tune now, Lee! You were one of the main ones saying we don’t see Sakura much anymore since she’s gotten married.”

Lee’s face turns slightly pensive as he glances at Sakura than back to Tenten. “That is true and I do miss hanging out with you, Sakura. But I do not want to start a fight over it, with us or with you and...Itachi.”

Green eyes close against the swimming feeling in her skull. She knows what's coming, knows why her body is on the verge of switching to survival mode. And would much rather not have them see her have a mental breakdown. Inhaling deeply, Sakura forces through the pain of lying to her friends.

“Please don't push this.” She nearly pleads, “l know the way people see him. I know that not everybody accepts the fact that he’s here. He’s done things...a lot of things and people have a hard time seeing past that. But I know him better than anyone. And it’s not like that, Tenten.”

“I wasn’t even talking about his past. I was talking about the way he treats you.”

“_ Because _ of what he did to Sasuke! You think he’s going to do the same thing to me or did the same thing to brainwash me into being whatever he wants me to be, believing whatever he wants me to believe.” 

Tenten purses her lips and lowers her eyes and voice. “Sakura, I…”

Turning away from the two of them, Sakura shakes her head and frowns,“It’s alright, Tenten. I get this all the time…”

“This isn’t about Sasuke!” Tenten presses, “I’d be the first to say that I’m still leery about Itachi. We all know what he did back then but things are different now. I just meant that you’re not his prisoner…”

“Prisoner?” Sakura reels, taken back by the notion and the truth of it all.

“Ladies, please,” Lee begs, “Let’s not fight. If Sakura cannot make it, we will reschedule for another time. I’m sure Shikamaru and Temari will understand.”

Lee trails off, leaving Sakura with a cold dread down her spine at Tenten’s near accurate description. The fear of having said too much forms a constricting lump in her throat. They remain quiet for a few moments, letting the crowd pass them by before Tenten takes a step in Sakura’s direction. She twitches at the sudden movement. Lee frowns. Tenten gazes earnestly at her.

“Do _ you _ think he’s manipulating you like he did Sasuke?” Tenten whispers.

_ Yes! _Her inner thoughts scream.

Her fingers fidget with her bag strap. Sakura forces out a nervous laugh, eagerly shakes her head and steps around both of her comrades.

“Of course not. Itachi cares about me.” 

Sakura can't hide her slightly frazzled tone. She forces down the rising bile in her throat and takes a few more steps away in hopes that Tenten will not be able to hear her racing heart or see the sweat on her palms. Or read the lies in her eyes.

“Don't pay me any mind, Tenten, I’m just a bit tired is all. But look, tell everyone I said hi, okay? Maybe we can plan something for a weekend. I know Ino is busy now but I’m sure she’d be up for a few hours together.”

“Sakura…”

“I really need to go,” she quickly adds, “See you around, guys.”

Sakura doesn’t wait for an answer, she crosses the road before either could convince her otherwise. Trying to keep her steps as unhurried as possible, she mentally counts each footfall and walks blindly on instincts. As soon as she is sure Tenten and Lee are out of earshot and the many shops turn into cozy homes, Sakura takes off running. She pumps chakra into her heels, then propels herself upward and takes to the rooftops. But the force is too much and she lands hastily, nearly slipping off as she momentarily loses grip of the shingles. Panic ensures as she doubles over on all fours to keep herself on the roof.

“Shit!” Sakura hisses and scrambles to her feet again. 

Clenching her pack, Sakura rushes to the one place she knows she can truly escape.

_ Just hold it a little longer. _

Pass a small lake and into a more secluded and green part of the village, she hops down from the last home into the dirt. Sakura runs all the way through a line of trees until finally she gets to a barely lite clearing. Having come here many times, her feet move on there on, even as she eyes cross from the surge of emotions in her mind.

It takes less than a few minutes before her running slows. Sakura comes full stop with a palpitating heart. Leaning against the nearest tree, fingers feverishly grip the front of her shirt. She gasps and chokes for air against a slowly closing throat. One hand claws over her heart while the other grips her hair for some type of grounding into reality. The metallic taste of blood rush leaves her mouth dry and cottony. Despite having run a short distance, beads of cold sweat leave her body clammy with spastic tremors in every muscle fiber. Had it been because of her sudden sprint, Sakura could have gotten her lungs under control sooner.

_ Count to ten. Breathe Sakura. _

Mild panic attacks are commonplace in her life now. Her rattled wheezing has every bit to do with the anxiety boiling so close to the surface after seeing Tenten and Lee. It's all she can do to keep her emotions in check. All she can do not to drive herself crazy most days.

Sakura paces in circles, green eyes wide but unfocused. It takes time for her chest to loosen and throat to stop burning. She's learned over time to ride the wave of hyperventilating and gives her heart a small jolt of medical chakra to relax. Once her body is back in her control, she wipes the sweat from her face and closes her eyes against the wind. 

_ I just need a minute. Just a few minutes before I have to do this. _

It's not that she needs to talk herself into going where she's already headed but the mental conversation helps. Sakura _ needs _ this. Need this moment alone. Shouldering her bag once more, she continues through a small green pasture. At the edge of it lay a purification fountain and shrine that opens up against the night sky. She pauses to clean her hands and say a brief prayer before ringing the bell. Sakura shakes her hands dry and inhales chunks of fresh nighttime air to empty her mind out of respect as she cross under the torii gate.

Careful to stay on the stone path lit with glowing pale yellow lanterns, Sakura weaves between rows of white limestone markings. A village within a village, the land is divided both by family,status and wealth. She crosses a small wooden bridge that separates part of the open field by a small slow moving creek, then continues towards a large oak tree nestled in the left corner of the Konoha Cemetery. Inscribed on the tree is a very large and very noticeable Uchiha clan symbol.

Sakura pauses before a medium sized white obelisk and rereads the tragic events that led to hundreds of Uchihas being buried all at once. The description is painfully vague, only mentioning that the clan was slain in one night for unclear reasons. She brushes her fingers over the cold marble before walking past it towards a groove of beech trees swaying gently in the wind. From experience she knows there is a jutsu here that prevents most from being able to enter this portion of the graveyard. Once people learned of Danzo’s use of their kekkei genkai, the elders and Hokage made sure only those allowed to could pass through.

As the matriarch of the Uchiha family, Sakura is one of the very few privileged with access to this place. She weaves the necessary hand signs to undo the protection seal then steps inside. Sakura feels the prick in her chakra but knows it's the complex jutsu verifying her chakra signature. After a few seconds, the imaginary forest opens to a neighbourhood of headstones. 

As far as the eye can see, hundreds of them, big and small lay evenly spaced between soft blades of grass. There is an eerily sort of loneliness, a tragic sadness that hangs over this area. For her, the depression only fosters the much needed calm she's been searching for. 

She bows both her respect and thanks to all who lay here, but she's not looking for any of these.

The lonely living figure wandering among the dead scrubs a hand through her hair as it catches the wind. The chill of fall against her bare arms cause hair raising goosebumps down pale skin. Light mist from a nearby lake lowers the temperature even more. Sakura continues through the graveyard at a leisurely pace until she nears its edge. 

_ I should go. _

Her body doesn’t listen to her mind’s advice and keeps walking until the path ends. Sakura exhales and stops before a rough medium sized heap of rock nestled under a beech tree. It’s almost unmarked. If not for the small telltale red and white uchiwa, people may assume it's a decorative rock.

Sakura knows better.

The lack of nominal clues, elaborate headstone and nearly secretive tucked away position in the Uchiha section of the Konoha Cemetery further emphasizes that this person is not to be remembered fondly, not even in name.

_ He’s not coming back. _

She tells herself and sorrow’s sting pinches her chest. Green eyes dull in the moonlight’s glow. Sakura takes a step back and plops down on the bench beneath the beech tree. Her body sinks into the wood, labored and heavily laden. 

“Hi Sasuke,” she greets with a weary smile. “I know you're probably thinking how annoying I am for running to you every time I have a bad day. But...today is especially bad…”

Her voice cracks as she fidgets and chews her lip against the pain “I had another panic attack. It wasn't as bad as ones I've had before. It's been a little while since my last on but still…”

She pauses to contemplate her nails idly scratching at the wood of the bench. 

“Today was supposed to be one of my good days.” Sakura guilty confesses, “I don't know what happened, you know. Some days I feel like I make strides and it's good. I'm okay and I've accepted it and I can take it. Those days I feel a step closer to happiness.”

Nails dig into bench as her tone turns sour, “Then I go to bed and wake up and everything comes back and I realize you're really gone….I don't know. I just don't know what's wrong with everything. Everything is just wrong! And it sucks and I'm just...I don't know. I don't know anything, Sasuke! I feel so stupid for thinking I could do this and getting in over my head. It's not working. It's not working at all…”

Her hands cover her face, hiding from him and the world as she slouches against the back of the bench. “Then this thing with Tenten and Lee. That was a total disaster. God it feels like I can't get anything right.”

Sakura stays that way, half slumped and covering her face. Her mind replays the day and the more it does the more embarrassed she feels. 

And helpless.

“I'm not helpless,” Sakura croaks but stops thoughts that remind her of her own insecurities.

She balls her fist and presses knuckles against her eyes until they stop watering, then drops her hands in her lap. It takes her pupils a minute to defog and adjust through the blur before she can see a sea of stars.

“I miss you...Sasuke.”

The words escape like a secret, hushed and deliberate. 

“I miss you so much. Some days I miss you less. But today it's more. More today than yesterday and the day before. Isn't that crazy, Sasuke? I don't even know how but I really miss you today. I know that if I…”

Sakura bites down hard on her lip and sits up to look at the makeshift headstone. “If I see _ him _...I know he's going to remind me of you and I'm not ready yet…”

A crisp red leaf flutters down from a low hanging branch and lands gracefully on the rock. Her fingers twitch against her legs, wanting to dust the leaf away as if its presence is somehow offensive. 

If she can’t touch him, neither can some dead piece of plant.

Before she can act on her thoughts, gravity does it for her. The leaf tumbles off just as quickly as it comes then dances away towards a nearby pile. 

Sakura watches with an air of detached numbness and chuckles darkly at herself.

_ I can’t keep doing this everyday. It’s unhealthy. _

Yet she folds in on herself, pulling her legs up on the bench as her body struggles to decide.

_ I can’t leave him. I need him… _

Sakura has to stop her mind from completing the thought. She shakes her head and inhales a shaky breath.

_ Get up, Sakura! _ She yells at herself. _ Get up! He’s not...he’s not… _

Her eyes surprise her, certain that she’d be out of tears over his death by now. She squeezes her eyes shut, only to open them again and look at the stone with some weird hope that maybe this is all some parallel universe. Any moment now, he’ll come creep up behind her as her silent hero. He’ll keep his distant at first, but the moment he sees her tears, he’ll come closer. He’ll ask in that disinterested way that only he can, ‘what’s the matter’?

When that happens, she’ll jump up. Jump up and curse him for being such an idiot. She’ll hit his chest and cry into his arms for making her suffer like this. 

“Baka!” Sakura screams. “You should have just listened to that idiot Naruto and come home! Why didn’t you just come home! Why didn’t you trust him? Or trust me? Baka! Baka! Baka!” 

She yells at the stone, calls him everything she can think of until her body trembles with anger and her voice cracks with the desperation to yell these things to his face. But she can’t and she never will be able to again. 

The unmarked grave reminds her so. As she sniffles she wonders if anyone would fault her for punching through the dirt just to drag up his rotting corpse and shake it. Or hold it. 

“It's already been three years,” Sakura chuckles and squeezes the material of her white pants. “Three god damn years. His organs are already liquified. He's probably filled with millions of maggots if there's anything left at all. What the hell are you gonna do Sakura, yell at his petrified skeleton? At this point that could be literally anyone down there. He won't even look like Sasuke….”

Wrapping her arms around her knees, Sakura rests her forehead on her perched legs, trying to remember Sasuke the way he was before Itachi took his life.

Before both of them took Sasuke. 

Before she agreed to this stupid mission. 

Her entire body tenses as sorrow and regret and humiliation threaten to drown her. Their very presence a mocking reminder of her ‘resolve’ to prove herself. To show that she, too, can make hard sacrifices. That sacrifices can be noble. One can be selfless without murdering their family or torturing their brother until he became one unrecognizable. 

Some overly optimistic and perhaps prideful part of her thought maybe Itachi will see her and learn that serving the village doesn't have to involve murder.

Maybe, just maybe, she will find true closure from it all. 

Sakura half convinced herself that only she, the person who loved Sasuke most, could get Itachi to that place. 

_I_ _never thought playing a role would be so hard. Or that I would miss you this much. I miss you, Sasuke. I...I wish it was you here with me instead of…_

Her feelings blossom into flowers of the ugliest emotions of bitterness and distrust and discontent about the man she's dedicated her life to. Her face grows more pensive and she closes her eyes, cursing the day Itachi started breathing again.

It was the day sealed Sasuke’s fate. And hers.

_ Maybe I could have saved you if they gave me more time. I just needed a little more time and I'm sure you would have come around. You could see reason. _

The wind blows across her shoulders causing goosebumps and shivers. The early autumn breeze reminds her of the changing seasons of world, of life. Everything and everyone changes, moves on, grows and dies. But she is still stuck three years in the past. The irony makes her bury her face in shame.

Itachi's past actions fueled Sasuke's future. Sasuke's past actions form her present. Both of them were stuck. 

Sasuke just isn't alive to talk about it. 

_ I get it Sasuke, I do. I know what you felt and I'm sure that I could have….if you'd just made me understand more then than maybe…. _

“Sakura.”

She jerks her head up so quickly at the call that her intruder leans back to avoid getting headbutted in the chin. A surge of panic at being emotionally overrun tenses her muscles. The fact that her senses didn't pick up on someone approaching sends her in a tizzy. Sakura swings reflexively, not quite seeing the person but knowing that she's too vulnerable at the moment and caught off guard to not act defensively.

Her intruder reacts quickly, catching her by the wrist in a tight enough grip that it keeps her from landing the blow. Instincts compel her to fight back but she freezes.

Sakura’s watery eyes widen in disbelief at the cloaked figure with eyes so dark and curious and familiar, kneeling in front of her. For the briefest second, she thinks she sees a ghost. Her mouth gapes, wrist going lax at the man cloaked in black. Bangs dangle out from under the hood in an achingly familiar fashion. The way his voice caresses her name makes her breath catch in her throat. 

Her entire body trembles.

“Sakura?”

_ It can't be. _

Her brain stalls, even after hearing her name called a third and fourth time. 

“Sasuke…” Her voice is barely audible, by all accounts she only breathes his name in fear that this phantom will vanish if she calls him too loudly.

It isn't until he reaches up and pulls the hood away, revealing himself to her does she blink.

And breath.

It takes her mind a few seconds after to place the facial features, the deeper tenor and knitted brows. When she does, Sakura’s muscles relax with disappointment. Her cheeks flush in embarrassment and she quickly looks away as Itachi eases both of their hands down to her side.

Sakura wrestles her hand away from his, then rubs at her wrist and looks down. It’s then that she notices the packed food sitting next to him on the ground, as well as one of her small bags filled with what she can only imagine are clothes. Looking for a much needed distraction from her earlier blunder, she crosses her arms and pulls her body as far away from him as the bench will allow.

“How'd you find me?” Sakura inquires.

Itachi's takes his time with answering and pulls himself to a standing position.

“This genjutsu is linked to my chakra,” Itachi's offers, “I always know.”

His words makes her stomach turn and the spot on her wrist were his hand rested burns. 

_ I always know. _

Sakura pushes down the suffocating feeling of being trapped, unable to escape him even in her place of refuge. She shifts the conversation to something less terrifying and juts her chin at the stuff pack.

“Where are you going with this...stuff?”

“The hospital,” Itachi’s voice is like silk, smooth and cool, not a hesitation or a reservation.

For some reason that services to annoy her. Sakura’s defense kick in as she questions him.

“...Why?”

Shadows sway on the ground. Sakura looks up as Itachi positions himself catty corners of her. His left side is in her immediate view but his head is turned, looking in Sasuke’s direction.

Seconds pass until finally he answers,. “I assumed you decided to stay overnight when you were not home in time for dinner. I was on my way to bring you a change of clothes and food.”

The suffocating feeling circles her throat. Sakura fights against the twisting choking knots in her gut and swallows despite her raw throat. He doesn't have the right to see her so undone. Especially because he is the root of her psychological misgivings. The hospital is the last thing she has that's hers. The one thing her husband can't get his manipulative hands on. Her entire body cringes at his supposed show of kinds, feeling more like an invasion into her most private spaces. 

It's not the first time he's done such a thing. Itachi brought her food once before. However, right now, his very presence is unwelcome.

“Of course you were…” she doesn't hide her sarcasm and discontent at his actions.

“Do you doubt me, Sakura?” Itachi's turns his face to her and raises a brow.

Doubt and disgust are a constant when she thinks of him.

Saying so would be a moot point in this moment. She opts to keep the words to herself and stands, creating some much needed distance between them, physically and mentally. Sakura takes to kicking leaves out of the way as an overwhelming feeling of protecting what she feels is hers motivates her. She clears the grounds around Sasuke’s headstone, cleaning and moving until she stands between it and Itachi.

Vocal silence takes over and the sounds of Konoha’s Autumn fill the space between them. Leaves crunch as Sakura clears them, the distant hum of lamplight trickles down between the noise of gentle wind gust. If she closes her eyes and moves around, she can almost imagine Itachi isn't even there. Having grown used to her husband processing information in his own head, she keeps her back to him and allows his silence to make him invisible. 

But then Itachi speaks,“You shouldn’t sit out here alone.” 

Sakura snorts and with a delicate touch, brushes her fingers over the top of the rock. “I’m a kunoichi,” she reminds him, feeling slightly less on edge with her hands physically connected to her lost love.

“Of that there is no doubt,”

“So what are you talking about?”

“You are vulnerable at the moment.”

Sakura pulls her shoulders back and scoffs at his comment. Cocking her hip to the side she turns on him and demands. “Who exactly is going to find me here, in a genjutsu protected secluded gravesite?”

“What happened?” Itachi asks, ignoring her question and sarcasm entirely.

Sakura almost says ‘_ You _’.

She turns her back to him instead, not trusting him in this vulnerable moment. “You knew where I was so there was no point in you coming here to look for me.”

“You have...obligations,” Itachi reminds her.

Right. The mission. Sakura nearly forgot about her duties in the midst of tumultuous feelings.

Giving in to that much, Sakura begrudgingly glances at him over her shoulder then walks over to him and gestures at his cloak.

“Let me check you,” she demands and, as always, Itachi complies.

He watches her as he unbuttons his cloak and folds it over his arm. Sakura waits while he settles himself properly before her, eyes watching so intently she can't even bring herself to glare or tell him to stop. Instead she ignores his concerned gaze, sets her mouth into a firm line that offers no room for questions. Her body moves mechanically, not quite out of her slump or feelings yet forced to deal with the object of her pain. Chakra pours into her hands casting an eerily green light between them. She’s done this every evening for the past three years. Every evening Itachi takes this evasion of his body in stride while her chakra probes his insides. She checks the weight, width and strength of his muscles. Her chakra looks for changes that may indicate violations of his training restrictions. Then she checks his chakra levels to make sure they are at the amount they should be. Once she divulges that the seals are both intact and untampered with, she inspects his lungs to make sure his illness has not returned. 

The entire process takes around five minutes. Every evening, Itachi passes his checkup with flying colors. 

_ Damn near perfect health as expected from someone with the top medic as their personal physician. _

Sakura chuckles darkly to herself and pulls her hands away just as his hand comes up and reaches for her face.

Her entire body recoils at the idea of touch. Itachi merely blinks, hand suspended in mid air as she offers him her shoulder. They stare at each other for a few seconds as everything and nothing passes between them. 

_ Please don’t touch me, _ she chants in her brain and drops her gaze towards the stone not two inches away from them.

When she glances up, Itachi’s eyes narrow a fraction. Green eyes meet black. Sakura watches him as he watches her for a few seconds until he turns away. His suspended hand drops before her husband takes a calculated step backwards. She watches him suspiciously as he unfolds the cloak, shakes it a little then extends it in her direction.

“May I?” he asks with no trace of malice or anger at her obvious aversion with his presence.

Sakura looks at the garment with mixed emotions. It’s not cold out by any means, just a mild chill in the air. She has no reason to take the thing. But Itachi is unknowingly reading her mind, sensing her need for comfort but not wanting it directly from him. His attunement to her emotions is enough to make her want to snatch the black cloak from his hands and burn it. Even without a Sharingan, he possess the ability to read minds, or hers at least. It reminds her of how much better he is at this, how easy it must be for him to manipulate her and toy with her. 

Itachi grunts and Sakura is almost convinced he rolls his eyes. Just before she can question his attitude, Itachi quickly settles the black cloak around her shoulders. She flinches and flares, trying to stop him before he can finish. But Itachi is no slower than he was in his shinobi years. He fastens the inner button and pulls the hood over her head before she can properly shove him away.

He does it all without physically touching her once.

Sakura glares furiously at him and out of defiance, jerks the hood down. Itachi doesn't even respond.

Instead he walks to the bench and takes her medical bag as well as the bag of clothes and food.

“What are you doing with my stuff?” Sakura harshly demands.

“Holding it,” Itachi replies and slings both bags over his shoulder before turning to walk away. 

“Don't take my stuff. “her words sound pleading enough to make her queasy. 

Sakura takes steps to follow after him but only manages a few as her husband ventures not three feet away. Itachi stops before the two largest graver makers flanked with flowers and uchiwa symbols. 

It occurs to her that, aside from the day Sasuke was laid to rest, she and Itachi have never been in this place at the same time. Despite her annoyance, watching him feels a bit intrusive but she's curious as to what he will do now that he's standing before his parents. When he drops the bags and eases to his knees, she turns her back quickly, looking once again to Sasuke. Suddenly the hood of his cloak comes in handy. While Itachi clearly invaded her private moment with Sasuke, she cannot bring herself to invade his. She pulls the hood up and closer to cover her face and keep his actions from view.

_ Is he planning to wait all night? _

Her lips dip into a frown. 

_ I can't really tell him to leave now that he's visiting his parents. _

She looks back at Itachi then to Sasuke again. Her husband’s head is down, eyes closed and perhaps in prayer, ignoring her completely. Suspicions turn to anger mixed with gratitude and relief. He isn’t pressuring her to leave or encroaching on her moment with his brother. Sakura wants the space and time and patience but hates that Itachi can pick up on it so easily. 

She knows that her thoughts are irrational if not bordering on insane at this point. Her distrust of him has no bases in this moment. Yet she can't shake the feeling that Itachi is somehow being manipulative.

He says nothing and does nothing and the silence makes her glare at nothing. Partly embarrassed at having been found in such a state, but mostly annoyed at him for everything, Sakura furrows her brows and fixes her features to match her thoughts. Out of spite, she crosses her legs and sits right next to Sasuke. If he's going to wait here for her, Sakura will make him wait all night. A childish victory if there ever is one, particularly because he doesn’t even acknowledge her. Itachi’s eyes remain closed, hands together in prayer.

_ What could you possibly have to ask the parents you killed. _ Sakura grumbles at him in her mind. _ Why do you feel the need to talk to them now? So what if it's convenient….I was here first! _

Green eyes narrow further in skepticism. Sakura picks at a stray leaf and briefly glances across the small distance as Itachi lifts his head and regards the stars.

_ I wonder what your parents would say about you if they were still alive...if they knew what you did to their baby son. What kind of person were you before you turned murder? Is there anything genuine about you? Or have you lied about who you are your whole life for your own goals ? What are you after now, huh?Why are you here with me? _

Tugging the cloak tighter around her small frame, she presses her entire back against the stone, finding some kind of relief in this contact. It's not Sasuke but close enough. She pulls her knees up and tilts her head back to watch swaying leaves.

She doesn't know how long they stay this way, Itachi watching the stars and her watching the beech tree. It's long enough that her toes tingle from lack of circulation and her ire cools enough that her annoyance wane though suspicions remain.

Sakura’s mind questions his every breath and blink. It’s hard to tell what’s going on in his mind. Itachi’s face betrays nothing , his body language is hard to read. Unlike the sharp angles of her shoulders or wrinkle in her brow that scream stay away. Itachi is and perhaps always will be a master shinobi, a true master of disguise.

Sakura adjusts herself, feeling a bit more self conscious. If truth be told, she is the only real shinobi here as the last Uchiha has since lost that title with the public. Yet, Itachi maybe the only one acting like it. 

_ I really shouldn't be so emotionally compromised. _

Her eyes wander to the Uchiha and his poised form once more. Part of her knows he’s keeping his distance because she flinched but the more needy part of her wonders if he’ll say anything, acknowledge her staring, feel her negative energy with regards to him. Will he ever lose it and be normal like her? Or is she just that pathetic a shinobi that seeing Itachi undone validates her outburst.

_ Why would he, Sakura? _ ’ She thinks and frowns at her shifting emotions. _ Why would he do anything I hoped he would during this mission if I keep acting this way. He must be laughing at me…. _

She crosses her arms and hugs herself as older and much deeper feelings push towards the surface. Reviving Itachi is perhaps one of her biggest successes as a medical ninja. Yet this mission feels more and more like a failure everyday as older inadequacy issues put her in her place. 

The urge to run away is strong but where would she go? Ino and Sai Are busy. Naruto and Hinata are busy with their kids. Kakashi is busy being Hokage. None of her other comrades are aware of her plight. The only person left is Itachi. The thought makes Sakura want to cry again, but she sucks it in, holds it for another time and closes her eyes to mentally escape. 

_ Some days I wish I were with you Sasuke. I can be where you are...it would be easier than this. _

Sakura allows herself to imagine a life where she and Sasuke were married. Where they had children and lived together in Konoha, happy and in love. As a medic she knows this thinking is psychologically damaging, stunting her mourning process with escapism. But it feels good. Aside from photos, these are some of the only times she can see him.

“Are you coming home, Sakura?”

Itachi’s voice clears the fantasy. Green eyes, heavy from tears and guilt and stress and grief open languidly and regard him still regarding the sky.

Sakura licks up lips then looks up at the stars as well. “Are you going to stay if I stay?”

“Hn”

“Leave if I leave?” She asks just because. 

“Hn”

Sakura looks sidelong at him. Maybe out of pettiness, she isn't sure of her emotions anymore, the pinkette inquires. “Any reason why you're playing my shadow tonight?”

“ You are vulnerable.”

Itachi finally looks at her, waiting for denial she supposed but Sakura has none to give. He's right and lying about it will only make her look stupid. 

“What is it, Sakura?” He asks her again, expressing concern.

She watches him then looks away for a moment at the tombstone before him. When her eyes shift back, Itachi’s gaze is once again forward, on his parents.

She's sure he's asking about what happened today. She can go into the whole spill about Tenten and Lee and seeing her friends. But honestly, she knows the underlying problem is something much harder and deeper. 

It's him.

It's her.

It's them, together and everything that made it be so they were here right now--sitting on the ground in the middle of the night in a graveyard of kinsmen and close friends. 

For Sakura, the long stretch of silence cools her temperament. Once anger and sadness subside, there is nothing but emptiness and the vacant feeling of numbness in her bones.

Reality.

_ No matter how I feel, I'm stuck with this. _

Sighing, Sakura tries to find words to answer him. Itachi already knows what's truly wrong with her. He's too perceptive not to, she reasons. More than that, she is not willing to voluntarily pour her heart to him. So she shifts her thoughts back to the mission, back to him and what it is about him that bugs her so much.

Finally, after a few seconds wait, she sums up her grievances in four words. 

“Tell me the truth,” Sakura wagers, weary and resolute. 

“Which truth, Sakura?”

His question draws her brows together. She shrugs one shoulder. “All of it.”

“Is that what bothers you? The truth?” Itachi response and Sakura hears him shift and stand. “There are many truths. I can't possibly tell you all of them.”

Her laugh is bitter and she sarcastically counters, “Aren't I your wife?”

“Not by choice.”

Sakura eyes him and shifts her sitting position to face him better. “That doesn't change the fact that you should be honest with your wife.”

“It does change how my wife interprets the truths I tell,” Itachi reasons.

He slides his hands into his pockets and levels his eyes on her curled up frame.. “If you don't trust my words, everything I say can be considered a lie even if it is truth.”

Rolling her eyes, she grunts and tilts her head in his direction. “I'm trying to be reasonable with you. Don't play word games, please. I want you to be honest with me. As...your partner.”

Itachi nods once.

“I am open to reason.” he finally replies, looking up at her through a shroud of untangled black hair. “Ask me.”

Sakura can only hold his gaze a moment before looking off again. She had not planned on him responding that way. Sakura expected a little resistance but his willingness to talk makes her nervous. 

_ He could just be humoring me _.

A quick glance then away again. Itachi doesn't rush her thoughts but waits in silence a few steps away. He's positioned himself for dialogue, seemingly open to her request. He always is, though. Always whatever she needs when she needs it. Always a different face, a different character, a different side. 

Suddenly Sakura knows exactly what to ask.

“Do you regret it at all, Itachi?” her voice is surprisingly tight and low, laced with three years of deep seeded sadness and loneliness. “ All the things you've done...people you've been for whatever reason. Was it all worth getting to this point?”

There is no guarantee that he catches her meaning. But Sakura knows Itachi is not dumb. She knows he knows what ‘it’ is.

It's all around them.

At length, the Uchiha calmly replies. “Does it matter, Sakura?”

Her lips thin and she presses for truth. “Yes. To me. Do you regret _ anything _?”

Seconds passes and Itachi says nothing. She waits with bated breath for his response. After another minute of silence, green eyes glance sidelong at him. Everything about his posture exudes calm. Hands eased into his pockets, shoulders back but relaxed, Itachi’s side profile looks every bit at ease. Sakura may have been fooled by this facade if not for the intensity with which his dark eyes stare into the night. The dull, lifeless flicker hooded by drooping eyelids and knitted brows translates something she’s never seen in his eyes before: grief.

“Itachi?”

He blinks once but doesn’t raise his head. Surprisingly, he does open his mouth. “You ask me if I regret anything, my answer is yes.”

Itachi pauses long enough to turn his saddened gaze to her. Sakura draws her shoulders back and hugs her knees, waiting.

“I cannot undo the past, Sakura. Nor can I change the oversight in my decisions. There is only acceptance.”

His answer makes her purse her lips and Sakura leans instinctively into the tombstone she's resting against. They settle into silence once more. Sakura muses over his words, turning them over in her mind.

Was that the end of it? Just accept it and move on? Surely there is more to Itachi logic than acceptance.

Taking a deep breath, she goes back to her original statement again, “Are you telling the truth?”

“Do you trust me, Sakura?” Itachi questions instead of answering.

Her reply is automatic. “No,”

Much to her surprise, Itachi smirks. His reply comes minutely, slow, as if he chooses each word with care. “Lies for their own sake are beneath me. You have every reason to distrust me. I have no reason to lie to you.”

“Everybody lies for a reason but that doesn't make it right!” She quickly counters, “Whether you lie for yourself or someone else, you've lied. You've lied before, Itachi. To the the village, to yourself...to Sasuke...”

When his eyes meet hers, Sakura nearly flinches at the hardness in his gaze. His tone is just as dark, a rumbled warning. “ Lies for their _ own _sake, Sakura. If a must lie for the sake of the village, I will. I will not lie to suit myself.” 

For a moment, she thinks to drop the subject but a much bolder part of her pushes the issue, pushes for truth. For closure. “ Didn't you? That's why you did what you did to Sasuke. Wasn't it for your own sake? He could have done without the additional childhood trauma. There were other ways, Itachi!”

“My actions were justifiable for the intended purpose of vindication. If I were to die, Sasuke needed to be the one to do it. It was necessary.” 

“Bullshit!” Sakura yells, “Everybody said you were a genius, a prodigy. You mean to tell me you couldn't see the flaws in your plan, genius?”

Itachi’s eyes narrow further, “In that moment, my reasons were satisfied with my judgement.”

Sakura snorts and scowls at him. “What possible reasons justified unnecessary tortue?”

He tilts his head away and looks down his nose at her. The effect makes his dark eyes smolder in moonlight as they close to narrow slits. Itachi lowers his voice to a much colder rumble and the temperature around her drops.

“My reasons are my own, as are yours.”

Sakura ignores the intimidation to favor confusion at the proposed accusation. It's her turn to narrow her eyes at him, “_ My reasons _? My reasons for what?”

Itachi offers her his full profile, “Did you accept this mission for nothing?”

“This _ is not _the same.” Sakura incredulous exclaims.

He flicks his wrist and gestures between them. “Are your reasons better than mine?”

Sakura scuffs, “Yes!”

“Based on whose truth? Whose realty?” Itachi counters. “I could assert that you are emotionally unstable for this mission. That there are others who could have made a more agreeable partner.”

His words are like a slap in the face that brings back all of her earlier fears. Hearing it from Itachi, knowing that he sees her shortcomings makes her face burn with rage and embarrassment. Anger kindled anew and Sakura balls her fist and pulls herself up to stand.

“Agreeable?” She questions defensively , “Oh, so you're questioning my abilities as a ninja now as if you're one to talk!”

Itachi does roll his eyes and looks up, “You're misunderstanding.”

“Damn right I am! Clarify. Quickly.”

“Agreeable is not the same as aptitude.”

Sakura’s temper spikes as does her chakra. “But emotional stability and aptitude go together. If I'm emotionally compromised, my ability to carry out the mission is affected. Are you really going to stand here and compare my grief to your backwards ass murder rampage?”

“I stand by my reasoning. You are emotionally involved for obvious reasons. That makes you less agreeable to me.”

Sakura takes a few steps in his direction but leaves enough space between them to make punching him in the face a tad more difficult. For Sasuke's sake, she doesn't want to desiccate his grave. “You're not the lead on this mission, I am. Okay, yeah. Maybe I have moments of weakness, I'll take that, but I'm a damn good ninja, Itachi. Agreeable or not. You may be used to being in charge and using people to your advantage but I am not someone you can manipulate to suit your desire!”

Itachi sighs but Sakura, enraged, keeps going.

“I'm not playing that game. I'm not being your puppet. I won't let you use me like you used _ him _. I'm sorry if you thought life would get easier for you since your last official ‘mission’. But you can't expect an easy ride after what you did, no matter the reason.”

Sakura finishes her tirade feeling both empowered and afraid. She huffs, aware that her breathing has quickened and her palms are sweaty once more. Maybe Itachi is aware that she just voiced her deepest fears. That Itachi is just playing them all has kept her tossing and turning in bed many of nights. If he could form and shape and fuels Sasuke's misguided worldview, who's to say that he hasn't done that to Kakashi or Naruto or _ her _. 

Maybe she doesn't always get it right. Sometimes she tries to use her femininity to control him. Sometimes it's her raw strength. But tonight is the first night she's told him to his face that she will not be a pawn in chess game. Maybe she is emotionally weak and unstable but that didn't make her any less capable.

So Sakura ignores her rapid heartbeat and keeps her sweaty palms clenched, back straight and determined despite how unsure she feels.

Across from her Itachi makes a noncommittal noise deep in throat and draws his brow together as he watches her. Sakura's own resolve wavers a tad. She thinks to look away but doesn't and holds his stare just the same. When silence remains, she thinks to clarify her statement and opens her mouth but Itachi mutes her by holding up a single hand.

At length he lowly replies. “I have no need for puppets. On the contrary, Sakura, your emotional independence and honesty is what makes you ept for this mission. This is why if my honesty is what you require, you have it. You have my full cooperation. Are we not supposed to be man and wife? If my wife cannot be emotionally honest with me and I cannot be understanding and truthful with her: marriage cannot succeed. We will fail this mission together.”

Sakura opens her mouth then closes again, stumped. Deep down she knows, with regards to married, Itachi is not wrong. 

_ But we're not married for real! It's just a mission...even then it is necessary to work together. _

Logically her husband’s words are sound but they also raise another question. 

“So you'll only be honest and cooperative as long as we share a mission?” Sakura questions. “Because that suits you for the moment and not honesty for itself?”

Itachi offers a clear and curt, “No.”

“You just said that!”

“Not only _ just _ .” Itachi cuts in, “Our predicament is one of several sacrifices I've made for Konoha. I have done many things for the sake of a mission. However, my cooperation with regards to _ you _ is more personal than the perimeters of this mission.”

‘_ Personal?’ _

Green eyes widen and her fist loosen their balled grip. Sakura licks her lips and looks away, even more unsure than she was with his last statement. 

_ Emotional honest. Being understanding. Successful marriage. Personal reasons. Don't tell me he's taking this union seriously!? Wait...shit…. _

Her chest tightens and face reddens for an entirely new reason. Her mind reeling at a number of scenarios, each spiking her heart rate higher than the last. She opens her mouth. Closes it again as only air escapes. 

_ This can't be happening. He can't be serious. Like _ serious _ serious! _

“W-what personal reasons?” Sakura barely stumbles out, unable to even watch the side of his face. 

She doesn't have to because Itachi takes a step towards her. Then another. And another. Sakura squeaks an undignified and unwarranted like sound as the man before comes closer.

‘_ No. No. No. No. No!’ _

Sakura clumsily stumbles back into the beech tree, clenching his cloak for sort of protection or barrier. 

Itachi continues his slow procession across the short expanse, crunching dead leaves with light steps. And as he moves towards her he ask, “Did you not, at some point, desire to be the bride of my brother?”

The question throws her as does his increased proximity, damn near confirming her internal panic. 

“ I-I,” Sakura cringes at the high pitched squeak not heard since the days of her blindly squealing at her childhood crush.

“Has not that option been removed?” Itachi presses.

“W-well yes but I..”

When he finally does stop, just shy of an inch away, her nerves are already in a panic at what he plans to do. When Itachi leans slightly forward, Sakura’s spine presses into the tree, trying to create space. As his hand reaches up she squeezes her eyes closed, waiting for a caress or a slap. 

Or a kiss.

She hardly expects to be jabbed with two fingers in the forehead. Sakura peels open her one eye and looks up questionably at him.

“You are my salvation, Sakura.” Itachi’s voice is so solemn and serious that it keeps her hands from shoving him a few feet backwards.

“I have taken something from you that I cannot give back. You have given me something I cannot return in kind. I owe you a great debt”

This is the first time she can think of him acknowledging his role in her pain, admitting that he is the reason she and Sasuke can never be together. The confession pierces her heart and makes her blush.

And fidget.

“Huh?” It's a dumb response but her brain isn't coming up with words quick enough to be coherent. Relieve and joy and confusion keep her from doing so.

Itachi takes her hand and places it on his chest. Sakura lets him for the sake of not being a limp extension of the beech tree. She watches the space as he presses her flat palm where his even heartbeat thumbs against his chest. She looks up as he looks down. 

“A life taken and a life given. Honor requires a repay in kind.”

_ Repentance, _she thinks solemnly.

His words leave her suddenly hollow and...useless. 

_ What is the point of my mission if Itachi already acts out his own moral judgement? He's already redeeming himself… _

Regardless of his motivations, she clearly has no impact on his attitude in this mission. The thought makes her narrow her eyes at her own actions these past three years.

_ If he's telling the truth than he's already doing what I wanted. What have I been wasting my time for? Nothing!? _

Her fingers curl against the material of his shirt. Green eyes watch the contours in the material, thinking as she tries to sit her emotions aside.

_ But is he telling the truth though? That's the real question ? _

Sakura honestly has no idea. Her time is hardly spent trying to get to know her husband. Yet, even if some honor code persuaded him to be cooperative, Sakura isn't only after his cooperation. 

She shakes her head and speaks evenly. “I don't want your life Itachi, you can keep that. I appreciate the sacrifice but I'd rather you show me that you realize that you made a mistake. You offering your life to me won't change the fact that you've hurt a lot of people.”

“What about Naruto?” Sakura quietly demands. “Sasuke was his best friend, like a brother to him. Does he have your full cooperation too? Are you offering him your life too?”

Itachi shakes his head. “Naruto has released me from my debt. He refuses any and all efforts from me to make amends.”

Sakura snorts in envy at how easily Naruto loses hatred. “ Of course he did.”

Itachi gently squeezes her hand. “ A lover is different from a brother though it is from the same heart.”

One pink brow cocks questioningly, “Meaning?”

“Love is different” Itachi clarifies. “I have no expectation to receive from you what Naruto gave so quickly.”

“What did he give you? To release you from your debt?”

Itachi looks to the side, down at the grave where his brother, killed by his own hands lay. 

“Forgiveness.”

The word is like ice and it chills all the way down to her bones. Sakura shivers and raises her eyes to him. When she notices his side long gaze, she too looks at the man she loved all of her life. As she stares at the ashen rock, remembering the things that led him there, she frowns. All the people laid to rest here are here because they took hold, in part, to the cycle of hatred.

_ Three years is a long time for resentment...and I don't want to die in anger. _

The strong and steady pulse under her hand is a hard reminder that she's pushed herself and overcame the impossible before. 

“Itachi?” Sakura whispers.

“Hn,” Itachi rumbles, as if her voice disrupts some deep thought. Sakura could have mistook it for annoyance. Except this time she feels the sudden inflection in his heartbeat.

Itachi doesn't seem perturbed by her knowing the effect she has on him. Much to her surprise, he wears his anxiety with the same mask as his everyday look. Facially calm and collected, eyes still fastened on his brother, Sakura watches him as the harder thud pushes against his chest, betraying what expression won't convey.

She almost regrets her next words as they do nothing to calm his raging pulse. “ I can't say that I trust you yet…”

Sakura pauses to see if he will say anything. Itachi stays silent so she continues. “I can't be like Naruto and just accept it for what it is. Especially because I know I played a huge part in stopping Sasuke too....But…I can forgive you, Itachi.” 

She furrows her brows in determination and repeats to convince herself and him. “I can forgive.”

Silence greets them once more. Sakura waits for a word or a noise or a sign that Itachi heard her declaration. 

Slowly, eventually, his pulse resides to its normal strong and constant rate. Finally after prolonged seconds, Itachi makes a noncommittal sound, deep and heavy that she could swore was a sigh.

Of relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this little baby! There will be a spin-off sorta sequel to this story called 'The Vow of Flowers'. Be on the lookout for that! Would love some feedback from you guys!
> 
> -Cece ^^

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings! Some of you my come across this story and remember it from Fanfiction! Yes, I am the same person! I just transferred it to this site!
> 
> For those of you new to the Allusions storyline, I hope you like it! This is my first Naruto fan fiction, so I hope their slight OOCness doesn't perturb you too much.


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